


Skin-Deep

by m4xw3ll



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Peter Parker, Gay Harley Keener, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Harley Keener is a little shit, I should feel sorry, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, also very confused Peter, but I don't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24352888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4xw3ll/pseuds/m4xw3ll
Summary: Peter Parker is a struggling college student at day, superhero at night and bearer of a soulmark that he needs to keep hidden 24/7. Especially since he is confused by the fact that he isn't in love with Harry, whom he thinks his soulmate. Instead he is crushing on fellow student and superhero Harley Keener, and he lives for their rivalry – even though he would never admit it out loud.But when a new threat emerges in the depths of New York, Peter and Harley find out they have a lot more in common than initially meets the eye. And maybe soulmarks aren't a bad thing, after all.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 38
Kudos: 112





	1. Viole(n)t Marks

**Author's Note:**

> New fic, everyone! Whoever let me try my hand at a soulmate AU while keeping that superhero setting should, by all means, be arrested.

Peter loved New York. He couldn't imagine living in another city with a less stunning view. He could see the faint glow of the Avengers Tower in the distance as he swung up in-between two apartment buildings, the wind hitting his suit hard and for a second he was motionless in the air, able to take in the kind of typical New York smell, the glistening lights in the skyscrapers and streets below him and the hustling of the people.

Then he fell back down, raising an arm to aim for the nearest rooftop and swung around the corner to a different set of people late-night shopping and to a different kind of shops still open and their lights spilling through the window fronts on the street. Peter checked his surroundings not only with his eyes, but his spider-sense didn't alarm him on any kind of danger, either. Maybe he should call it a night and get back to his dorm. There was an essay he needed to finish, after all.

Just as he thought of turning around and heading back to the dorm, a dull ache in the back of his neck started. Peter landed on the nearest lamppost facing a dark office window. He didn't take a second look at himself, though, he knew the red and blue suit by heart and instead took to scanning his surroundings. Somewhere in the darker streets around here should be something bad happening. As soon as Peter picked up swinging through the streets again and took a corner a little sharper than intended, he was faced with a most unfortunate sight.

Not only were the windows to a small jewelry shop broken and glass littered the street, among four burglars was another rather familiar sight. "Hey!" Peter yelled as he touched down in front of the store, glass crunching between his feet.

He stepped aside as one of the people breaking into the store got thrown out onto the street, right along with a bat that had apparently belonged to him. It hit the burglar in the head and he passed out, arms and legs sprawling like a starfish.

"Seriously?" Peter groaned in half-frustration, even though he had to admit silently that it had looked hilarious. "Can you stop beating people up that brutally for _one_ second?"

"Oh shit," growled one of the other three grown men, who looked more like a gorilla with a ski mask than … well, normal. "Not that guy, too."

Peter ducked under the swing he'd seen coming for miles and then jumped out of reach as he watched Iron Lad in his mostly red and black armor with purple streamlines raise his arm to release a shock wave. A much lankier man clad in black and a ski mask got blasted backwards and crashed into a showcase for necklaces.

"Hi there," Iron Lad then greeted him and waved, and Peter swore up and down he could see the guy grin beneath his mask. "Little late to the party, aren't ya, darlin'?"

Peter knew he couldn't see it, but he still rolled his eyes beneath the mask before shooting a web at the gorilla burglar and catching him by the hand. Peter pulled hard, making him stumble forwards and jumped at the man, knocking him out with a trained hit on the neck.

"Better late than violent," Peter answered and used the now unconscious guy as a springboard and clung to the ceiling with his feet. "You know that's still property damage, right?"

Iron Lad blocked a hit from the last standing burglar. "Yeah, well, we're not the ones being held responsible."

"Still!" Peter stayed upside-down and aimed at the third burglar with both hands, webbing up his arms and yanking him forward so he crashed into the floor. "I bet half that broken glass is your fault. Can't you get rid of your shockwaves?"

Iron Lad looked up at him … and then shrugged. "Nah, I like them."

"You're the worst."

"You always say that. C'mon, the police will be here any second now." Iron Lad passed him and stepped outside the store.

He then flipped back onto the ground, careful not to step on the limbs of the unconscious burglars, and followed Iron Lad outside. "Yeah, I don't want to get roped into this mess with you."

"See you in class!" Iron Lad took off to the right, flying a straight line up in the sky, and Peter did a running start to the left before jumping and swinging around a corner.

*

Peter didn't finish that essay until 3am and he looked the part walking to class the next morning. Linear Algebra and Differential Equations wasn't that hard, especially since it was a beginner's course in the second semester but he knew absolutely nothing about it yet and putting all the Google results in the right order had been downright draining. Even the fresh air as he walked to class with Harry the next morning didn't help. Looking around at the other students hurrying to class assured him that he wasn't the only sleep-deprived guy around, though.

"Did you pull an all-nighter again?" Harry asked. He looked way too awake and good with his dark hair combed back and curling in his neck, green eyes wide awake and even his casual hoodie and jeans didn't give the impression that he was anything else than super rested after a good night's sleep.

Unlike the absolute mess Peter looked. He hadn't even found his hairbrush, and Ned was already out so he couldn't even ask his little more organized roommate. Harry would have found it in less than three seconds, Peter was sure of it. After all, Harry was his soulmate.

Even though Peter usually hid the small _H_ imprinted on his wrist since birth from other people, he had shown Harry about a year ago. And even though their letters didn't look even a little similar, he just _knew_ Harry Osborn, his childhood friend and protector from bullies before Peter had gotten his powers, was the one. Too bad his feelings just wouldn't comply. What good was having a soulmate if he wasn't the one Peter thought of while waking up every morning?

"Hey, talking to you," Harry reminded him with a patient smile.

Peter pulled his backpack a little higher up on his shoulder. "Yeah," he finally managed an answer. Which sounded like a mix between a mumble and a groan. "Remind me never to take 8am classes again."

All Harry did was laugh, though. "You said that last semester, and look where we are."

Peter couldn't help the small smile as they stopped in front of the lecture hall Harry needed to go to. "Yeah, I'll just make it your fault."

"You do know you're going to lose against a future lawyer?"

Peter chuckled and shook his head. "Go get your degree, I'm probably late already."

"Right back at ya," Harry said and touched his shoulder in that kind of casual way Peter hoped would eventually hold a deeper meaning for both of them.

Until then, Peter couldn't afford to be late. So he picked up the speed, carefully avoiding crashing into lone students walking through the mostly empty building in which Peter's classes for Mechanical Engineering were held. And unfortunately, the guy he _actually_ had a crush on was there before him.

How the hell did Harley manage staying up just as late, beating up burglars and still look like he had a full night's sleep? Honestly, he was amazing, and Peter was pretty sure the mess that was his blond hair was on purpose like that. Just like the askew flannel with the sleeves rolled up he never seemed go anywhere without, and the tons of leather bracelets on both wrists. He grinned and waved as he saw Peter enter the classroom.

"You look a little tired, darlin'," Harley greeted him as Peter pointedly took the seat on the other end of the room. "Didn't sleep well?"

Peter tried to ignore the somersaults his stomach did whenever Harley called him _darlin'_ in his stupid southern accent and smiled in that kind of flirty way. He didn't make a big secret out of being gay, which was frustrating and amazing at the same time. Peter's bi ass just didn't know how to deal with that. Why was it so much easier to get along at least a little better when they were both wearing masks?

"Yeah, remember that essay we had to finish?" Peter dug into his backpack, glad for the excuse not to look at Harley.

Honestly how people could see Iron Lad and Harley side by side and not draw the connection was lost to him. Both showed up around a year ago, obviously not from New York and with the same kind of off-putting yet fascinating attitude. Then again, they also didn't know he was Spider-Man. And after a few weird first meetings he and Harley had struck the deal to let it stay that way. Which was the only redemption point on Harley's otherwise impressive record of making Peter's life confusing as hell. Just like he managed right now.

"Essay?" Harley practically dove across the room, almost running over another student with a pretty big coffee mug and coming to a slithering halt in front of Peter's desk, slamming his hands on the poor wood.

"Yeah, about the Matrix Theory?" Peter tried to look up as innocently as possible. His mouth twitched with a smile as he watched Harley's face falter, panic settled into his eyes and he mouthed a silent 'shit'.

So much for balancing out hero and college student life. Peter sighed and knowing full well that their professor would probably be late anyways, he slid the paper across the desk. Only 500 words, that should be manageable.

Harley's mood seemed to brighten immediately. "You're the best!" He said, blew a kiss in Peter's direction and grabbed the paper before running back to his own desk.

And Peter … well, he tried desperately not to blush. And probably failed spectacularly. So much for that soulmate crap. Only 12 percent of all people even had a mark on their wrists, always the first letter of the person's name they were supposed to spend the rest of their lives with. And it was supposed to be _Harry_ his stupid brain should be fawning over, not _Harley_. Which wasn't the reason Peter hid it under a hoodie in winter and a wristband in summer, but it was another confusing point of What Has His Life Become.

"You're the absolute worst!" Something hit Peter in the head. A piece of paper, crunched up into a ball, and he frowned at it for a second. Then he looked back at Harley, who had shouted at him. "What is this crap?" He held up Peter's essay like it had personally offended him.

"Are you telling me I did it wrong?" Peter asked, kind of defensive about his mostly frantically written essay. It wasn't even that long, how did Harley have a problem with it?

"You didn't even get the terminology right!"

"Says the guy copying it right now."

"Well, at least I know what I'm talking about! I just didn't have time for it!" Harley even had the audacity to stick out his tongue at Peter, flashing the silver stud in the middle of it yet again.

Copying their homework whenever one of them had a longer night than the other had become second nature by now, and it always spawned arguments like that. And Harley more often than not ended them with this kind of thing, putting absolutely inappropriate thoughts into Peter's head. His brain wouldn't even cooperate to form a dignified response while it still worked around 'tongue piercing looking pretty good' and 'what kind of stuff he could do with that'. At least Harley finished in time to give the essay back to Peter before their professor arrived.

*

At least Peter didn't have to see Harley for the rest of the day. Instead he holed up in his dorm room, let himself fall face-first on the bed and hoped the pillow would smother him and his absolutely frustrating thoughts. Okay, maybe he hoped texting Harry would accomplish the same thing, but his friend hat yet to return from class and hadn't seen any of the rants Peter had a habit of blowing up his phone with.

Ned was a pretty good distraction, too. Peter still hadn't even thought of touching the homework they had gotten today and instead turned around, hugged the pillow and watched Ned get ready for his date. Which was also how he found his hairbrush.

"Hey, I've been looking for that!" Peter exclaimed and pointed.

"Oh, that?" Ned waved the brush. "That's yours? I found it on the floor."

Which was low-key disgusting, but since there weren't any adults around to reprimand them for the chaos that was their room, Peter just shrugged. "Pretty sure it's mine."

Ned, who could just walk around in a shirt and flash his wrists no problem, shrugged. "Betty doesn't care as long as I look presentable."

Peter was happy for his roommate, he truly was. Even though he had only gotten to know Ned last semester when both of them started college and got appointed as each other's roommates, he was a pretty nice guy, they shared a love for Star Wars and late-night popcorn and tech. Talking shop was almost as easy as with Harley, minus the jabs at each other's methods. Though Peter would never admit it out loud, said jabs had helped him perfect a concept more often than not.

"You know," Ned continued as he picked up a shirt from the floor and sniffed it. "Sometimes I'm jealous of those people with a soulmark."

Peter frowned as he watched Ned change shirts. "What, why?"

"Then I wouldn't have to worry about dating the wrong person." Ned combed through his hair again with his fingers and pulled out his phone to look into the front camera, baring his teeth. "I mean, Betty is great and everything, I just think it'd be more convenient, you know?"

Peter shook his head, wished Ned fun on his date and fell back onto the bed as the door closed behind his friend. Soulmarks weren't a good sign. They were confusing and made his stomach turn and he didn't even have the energy to think about every repercussion ever that he could face in his dating life. The _H_ wouldn't magically disappear and people wouldn't even date him if they knew Peter had a soulmate. They didn't want to get their heart broken, he could understand that. Every time another story like that surfaced on the internet, Peter felt torn between telling people they didn't have to romantically love their soulmate and wishing for exactly that. Because somehow, Ned was right; this would make things a lot easier.

But it was also the reason Peter couldn't ever 'go out more', like Ned suggested. He had enough anxiety about his grades and the superhero stuff he did at night, he didn't need to add 'disaster at dating' to his ever-growing list of failures in his life. So he stood up after a few minutes and fished for his backpack. It was still a few hours before it got dark and he could exit the dorm without getting weird looks – well, even weirder than usually – so he could focus on his homework instead. After today's discussion, he was determined to tackle the next essay with more concentration and show Harley just _how_ right he was.


	2. Midnight Blue(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter with more love than I hate-cut my hair today. You're welcome.

On lab day, Peter was the punctual one. In fact, he made a point by getting the security guy, Happy, to let him in ten minutes early and got settled in. Which was not as effective as he had wished since Harley didn't show up until two minutes after they should have already started. Peter felt personally offended by this.

Also Harley should know better than to be late; these labs were not only the ones with the best equipment on campus, but also partially owned by Tony Stark, who only picked a handful of students to work in them as kind of an internship alongside their course requirements. The labs were state of the art with pristine workstations, voice activated robotic arms to help, even a holotable though they all had to share one. All of this on the top floor of the Mechanical Engineering building with extra security. So Peter knew they were lucky to get twice as much time in a lab and hands-on experience than their peers, which was why he would never dare even think of being late.

And here Harley was, on the phone and laughing while he threw his backpack on the chair of his very own workstation. Peter watched from the station right next to him, frowning. Not only because he dared to actually be late, but that laugh was contagious. Peter could count on one hand how many times he had seen Harley smile genuinely, not in that kind of weird butterflies-in-his-stomach flirty kind of way, or while mocking him. It was a sight to behold and Peter took mental screenshots. Like, a lot of them.

"Yeah, gotta go," Harley said and fumbled with his jacket while holding the phone between his head and shoulder. "And you should, too, you know you gotta make up for my fucked-up rep, kiddo." He listened, then laughed again. "Bye!"

"You're late," Peter remarked as soon as Harley had ended the call and gave him a disapproving look.

Harley's grin didn't falter for a second. Instead it turned kind of mischievous. "Yeah, kind of an emergency."

Still, Peter noticed that Harley scratched the skin hidden by his wristbands and he almost felt compelled to do the same; that's where his soulmark was, after all. Or rather, his curse. It really was a kind of Beauty and the Beast story, only one in which Peter could never turn into a normal human again. That was impossible even before he had gotten bitten by that spider.

Those thoughts were wiped from his mind when Tony Stark entered the lab, looking perfect and aloof as ever. His tie hung loosely around his neck and he took off sunglasses before looking around. Peter still couldn't get over the fact that one of the Avengers and richest people in the world had even noticed him, let alone invite him in his lab.

"Everyone here?" He asked, then waved at Peter and Harley before stepping up to the latter's workstation. "How's your little buddy coming along?"

Peter still wasn't sure what Harley was trying to do, even though the half-assembled thing looked something like a gun. But he knew for a fact Harley would never shoot something that could seriously injure people; well, except his shock waves, which sent bad guys crashing into things on the other end of the street on a regular basis. And some kind of energy beam, though Peter doubted it was harmful. He still couldn't make out what kind of energy it was supposed to be.

But instead of pondering about that, Peter faced his own project. His little buddy came along just fine, too. "How is he?" Mr. Stark asked after a few minutes and leaned over Peter's workstation to look at the hand-sized drone Peter had gotten to look like a spider.

"He's doing good," Peter said and scooped up his little buddy in his hands. "I think I can crack the 6mph barrier in the next test run."

Mr. Stark frowned a little. "What's he doing, again?"

"Yeah, I know, I know." Peter couldn't help turning red a little and looked down, feeling kind of embarrassed. "He's an automated bomb identification and disabling drone, but he needs to be, like, fast. To get to the bomb before it explodes, you know?"

A few seconds of kind of uncomfortable silence followed, before Mr. Stark smiled. "Think you can make it 10mph?" Peter beamed and dove right back into his work, not even caring what he had to say to Harley's project. If he was good, and his little guy was stable enough, he could maybe even do 12mph. He just needed to improve the sensors so they could keep up with the speed.

*

Lab time was exhausting. As much as Peter loved working on his little spider guy and maybe sneaking a peek at Harley every now and then, tongue piercing clacking against his teeth when he silently mumbled to himself, a hand in his hair and bent over his project in concentration … well, he found it fairly obvious he needed to calm down for a bit afterwards.

So the most obvious choice was to get Ned and Harry after their classes and lie in the grass in the middle of campus as long as it still was warm enough to do so. Peter used his backpack as a pillow and pawed at Harry's pen now and then when his friend shook it between his fingers in concentration. Unlike Peter and Ned, he was actually trying to do some homework.

"I can bullshit my way through most of it," Ned explained, sporting a confident grin and raising his head to soak up some more sun. "And tomorrow is another day to learn."

"Yeah, but you'll say the same thing tomorrow, too," Harry pointed out, which got a good laugh out of Ned.

Peter smiled at them. "I'll make sure he takes his exams seriously."

"You're not any better."

"Am too!" Peter grinned at Harry, who shook his head smiling.

A few other students had the same idea as them, sitting on the grass doing their homework or goofing off, and pitying the poor souls who had to get to a late class. Usually, Peter didn't pay them much attention; after all, those were college students. What were they going to do, attack him?

"Hey!" Ned suddenly yelled, which made Peter shot up. He looked around, to his friend waving his arms and then to the person he was calling out to.

Maybe Peter really _should_ have paid more attention. Because of course the guy making a beeline for them and waving back was nobody other than Harley. He pulled headphones out of his ears before bumping Ned's fist in greeting. "What's up?"

"Haven't seen you in a while," Ned grinned up at him and patted the grass next to him. "Got a few minutes?"

"Sure, why not?" Harley let himself fall in the grass and stretched out his legs. And when he saw Peter scrambling to sit upright, he grinned. "Hey, you're legally not allowed to obstruct my view like that. Lie down again."

And Peter almost did, although he would rather call it 'falling backwards'. Instead he grabbed Harry's arm to stay upright and looked down so his blush wouldn't be too obvious. Usually Harley was pretty harmless with his jokes, but this one came a little too close to a few thoughts Peter had about Harley and his damned tongue piercing.

"Excuse you?" He heard Harry ask and even though he didn't look up, he was pretty sure there was a deep frown on his face. "Who are you, again?"

"The name's Harley. And you are?"

Peter's head shot up again. He had never in his whole life heard Harley's voice this … icy. Which was alarming, because Harry didn't sound any better. The two of them stared at each other, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, and Peter was pretty sure this was how nemeses were born. Kind of.

"Peter's friend," Harry answered while putting an arm around Peter's shoulder.

They continued to stare, which was more than a little creepy. Sometimes Peter wondered if his spider-sense didn't work properly or if it liked to mess with him and not steer him away from pretty awkward situations on purpose. Which could be considered an attack at Peter's nerves, so damn that spider-sense.

"Hey, uh," he piped up, scrambling to find something to diffuse this situation. Maybe he should have brought his little drone. Ned had to do in the meantime. "How do you know Harley?"

"Oh, we shared an introductory course to computer sciences," Ned explained, hilariously oblivious to the whole situation. "I think you weren't in it because you took that anthropology one for your minor?"

"… right," Peter answered, only half listening and nodding absentmindedly. He leaned a little against Harry, who still hadn't let go of him.

"You know," Harry said all of a sudden. "I think it's getting a little cold. Guess we'll better head back inside." He stood up and almost knocked Peter over before helping him up.

It _had_ gotten pretty late already and the sun was setting. But Peter wasn't a complete idiot and knew how to read a situation and he was pretty sure Harry and Harley were on the verge of attacking each other, though he could swear they hadn't known each other before. His whole plan to relax and soak up some of that early summer sun was out the window, literally, and he wouldn't be unless in costume. Because sitting here like that was just too awkward to handle.

"Sorry," he apologized to Harley, though he didn't know why. He felt kind of responsible for Harry and his mood, which almost made Peter shiver from the imaginary coldness. "I'll, uh, catch you later?"

"Sure thing, darlin'." Harley waved at them, before continuing to talk with Ned.

As soon as they were out of earshot and halfway to Harry's dorm, Peter stopped him by grabbing his wrist. "What the hell was that?"

Harry turned around, frowning. "What?"

"You going off at Harley like that."

"Oh." Harry took a few seconds to answer, looking like he wasn't actually sure what Peter meant. Then he shrugged. "Guess I just can't stand that guy?"

"But haven't you just met?"

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know, sorry I was like this," he said and raised a hand to rub his neck. "I just … got a really weird feeling with him. I can't really explain it. I didn't know you were friends, though. Wasn't that the same Harley who gets on your nerves all the time?"

Peter smiled a little, relieved. "Yeah, that was him."

Before he could explain … well, the things he _couldn't_ explain, like why Harley got on his nerves but Peter still craved his attention in some weird masochistic kind of way, Harry's phone rang. "It's my dad," he mused while fumbling it out of his pocket. "Probably about his blood test."

"His what now?" Peter frowned.

"Didn't I tell you?" Harry made a face. "Sorry, I'll explain later, I need to get this."

*

All the weirdness of the day was followed by a pretty uneventful night. Peter didn't even know what he had been expecting, and he knew he should be grateful. Less crime was always a good sign, right? Instead he lounged on the rooftop of a pretty tall apartment building, letting a leg dangle off the edge, and yawned. Watching the sky in the middle of New York was kind of pointless, so he still kept an eye out on the street below, waiting for his sense of danger to alert him to anything going on.

It didn't, but a second later Peter still jumped as he heard a metallic thud coming from the roof. He was on his legs in a matter of seconds and looked around the ventilation systems until he spotted a familiar figure walking towards him. "Hi there," Iron Lad greeted him and waved with a plastic bag in his hand.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

"You do know you're not the only superhero in New York, right? And you're the one who said 'catch you later', remember? Guess _I_ caught _you_ , tho." Iron Lad said as he sat down next to Peter. He put the plastic bag between them and dug into it. Out came two burritos, one of which Iron Lad offered him. Peter stared at it for a few seconds. "What, it's not like you're taking candy from a stranger."

"Fine," Peter agreed and sat down again. He pulled the mask off and took a bite out of the burrito after unwrapping it. "Oh, that's good, where did you get that?"

"Few blocks from here," Harley said as he removed his helmet, shaking his always messy hair and running a hand through it. "Tonight's slow, so I thought I'd share."

"What do you want?" Maybe it was naive to think suspiciously of him, but Harley wasn't just nice to anyone for any reason.

"Nothing."

"Lies."

"Darlin', you're the worst," Harley complained through a mouthful of burrito. "Can't I just be nice for a change?"

Peter snorted. "Yeah, and why would you do that?"

To that, Harley didn't have an answer. Or he didn't want to give one, so they sat and ate in silence for a few minutes. Which was actually quite nice, even if Peter couldn't believe his own thoughts for a second. He _really_ shouldn't like Harley's company so much, but no matter how many times he rolled his eyes at a stupid argument or tried not to watch the guy do mundane stuff or just sit here and eat while waiting for something mildly entertaining to happen, Peter just couldn't force himself to do it. One day, he would probably pay for that.

"So," Harley started with his mouth still half-full. "Your friend. I didn't catch his name."

It took Peter a few seconds to catch up. Talking about their college life when dressed as their superhero selves just didn't align in his world. "Harry," he answered when he could point out what Harley was asking. "Harry Osborn."

Harley choked and coughed. "As in – _Oscorp_ Osborn? Richest guy in the city, after Tony Stark?"

"Basically." Peter should feel bad that he couldn't keep his laughter in. But watching Harley turn red and spit out burrito chunks was a sight to see. "He hates introducing himself to people, but I think he'd like your reaction. Can I film it?"

"I dare you." Harley glared at him before finally regaining his composure. "So, he hates me."

"He doesn't –" Peter stopped himself, because if he thought about it for a second. "Okay, maybe he does hate you."

Harley raised his eyebrows. "Why? I'm the nicest guy on the block!"

Peter could only huff in response.

"What?"

"You're abrasive and cocky and have probably broken more bones than a regular hospital knows how to deal with. Oh, and you make people incredibly uncomfortable." And with _people_ he actually meant _himself_. If he were to start a tally for every time Harley called him _darlin'_ , made him blush or think thoughts aunt May's still-imposed PG-13 rating definitely wouldn't allow, he'd be in double digits in under half an hour.

"Aww, but you love me for that, darlin'," Harley did it right now again, this time with a wink.

And Peter blushed. "I hate your guts so much right now."


	3. Re(a)d Between The Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally needed all my commute home from work to come up with a color-related chapter title. Which is kind of embarrassing.
> 
> Also I've seen a few names around here of people who also read The Right Thing. Just wanted to let y'all know that this fic is finished, in case you didn't get update mails from AO3 since they recently had problems with that.

Peter swung through the streets so fast everything around him became blurry. Glass fronts of shops and passengers and a few lampposts he narrowly avoided flew by and all he could see was the racing metal suit formed like a rhino in front of him and the parked cars it crashed into every now and then. In the middle of the day, it was hard to overlook; the police had long since taken notice and tried to respond. Peter's built-in police radio hadn't known peace since the twenty minutes it had taken them to spot and respond to the threat, but still cars swerved and crashed and pedestrians dove behind the nearest cover when the Rhino charged at them.

"Shit, you see that?" Iron Lad asked, flying next to Peter full-speed. It had been a good idea to link their communication units, after all, even if Harley mostly used it to make inappropriate comments most of the time.

"I'm not _that_ blind," Peter grumbled and took a curve around a skyscraper a little too wide, running on the windows of the adjacent building before gaining speed again and shooting his webs at the nearest ledge and jumping.

"I mean, still not the weirdest thing I've seen in New York." Iron Lad put more energy into his thrusters and gained on the Rhino.

"No?"

The Rhino crashed into the side of a truck trying to run a red light and honking at the cars which blocked its way. Even the horn sounded mortified. But Peter finally caught up, too, jumped to the ground and aimed his webs at the back of the suit, grabbing them from behind and just barely keeping them from continuing to barrel through the streets.

Peter almost crashed face-first on the asphalt because that suit was _strong_. Or maybe the person inside it, he couldn't really tell. But Iron Lad landed in front of it and pushed it back with his shock waves. The ground beneath the Rhino cracked as they tried to hold themselves upright and still took a step or two forward.

"Think it'll be like a turtle on its back?" Iron Lad mused. He switched from shock waves to his weird energy beam, a bright purple and white, but even this almost didn't faze the Rhino. And certainly didn't push them over.

"Dunno," Peter answered, his voice straining just like his webs did. "Hey, think you can hold them by yourself for a few seconds?"

"No fucking way!"

"C'mon, Harls, please!"

"I love to hear you beg, darlin'," Iron Lad sighed. "But not the time!"

Peter fought a blush, which made him briefly wonder what kind of fucked-up situation this was. Fighting a villain failing to rob a bank _and_ Harley's flirting was just too much. And on top of it all, he was missing his afternoon class! "I'm letting go," Peter announced out of pure spite – and kind of because he had a plan. But that was secondary.

How Iron Lad managed to power up his energy beam was anyone's guess. Peter didn't think about it for a minute as he let the webs fall off his shooters and jumped the Rhino from behind. He heard a low growl, like an animal's but he was fairly certain a rhino did not sound like that. But what did he know, apparently water and tornadoes had faces nowadays, too. So Peter climbed the back of the suit and grabbed the head, really glad about his sticky traits.

"What the fuck, Parker?" Iron Lad shouted at him and the energy beam briefly ceased. He jumped out of the way as the Rhino began charging, again. Not too late, but still the Rhino managed to graze him with such a force it sent Iron Lad against the nearest advertising column.

"Harls! You okay?" Peter barely could keep himself on the Rhino, even with his sticky hands and feet, all the while he tried to wiggle the helmet free. At least he hoped it was a helmet and he would somehow be able to cut the power or at least significantly slow the Rhino down.

He heard something shoot behind him and when he turned his head, a series of explosions lit the street as Iron Lad charged right through them, aiming at the Rhino. "Get out of the way!"

"No, I almost got it," Peter protested but still readied himself to jump. "On my mark?"

"Fine, but you better have good timing," Iron Lad grumbled.

Peter hoped so, too. The more he managed to wiggle the helmet – he now was pretty sure it was one – the more agitated the Rhino got. Whatever it was that made them so angry, and so determined to crash into New York from north to south, maybe it got amplified this way. Which would mean the suit lost its power if it lost the helmet, or at least part of itself. Disconnecting the energy flow was the only idea Peter had, after all. And if that didn't work, well, there was probably a human inside it – they could take them out.

"And you better hurry!" Iron Lad shouted, which yeah, okay, Peter saw the point. Or rather he saw the intersection ahead, the street turning left and right and the massive building in front of him looked kind of unyielding. Especially to a tiny little spider like him, who would probably get crushed between rubble and the Rhino.

He got his fingers between two metal plates. "Now!" Peter shouted, pulled hard and jumped.

Just a second later, a massive energy beam sent the Rhino barreling forwards, made him do a few somersaults while Peter landed on the street, holding the helmet in his arms. It even had a tiny rhino horn on it. His knees were a bit wobbly, which naturally came with riding a wild animal through the streets of New York, he guessed.

Iron Lad landed right next to him. Peter could see he was exhausted; his usual posture was gone, he leaned forward and put a hand on his knee and Peter could hear him pant over the comms. "You okay?" He still managed to ask.

"Think so," Peter answered and only a second later he found himself sitting on the street. Okay, maybe that had been way harder than it had felt just a minute before. "Yeah, no. I'm good. I just need a minute."

"Same."

They watched the Rhino until the police arrived, tying him – it was actually a guy – up with webs and vacated the ground before an officer could even try to think of holding them responsible for the damage. The poor guy seemed pretty out of it and exhausted, nearly unconscious. Either all the running had taken a toll on him, or disconnecting the power had actually made an impact on the suit's amplification of powers.

Peter only realized he still had the helmet when they were halfway back to college. "Shit," he mumbled and landed on a rooftop. "I can't explain this thing to Ned."

"What?" Harley asked as he stopped next to Peter and came to the ground. He was still exhausted; they both were. So it wasn't all that embarrassing to take a break every now and then.

"That." Peter held up the Rhino helmet with both hands.

"Give it to me," Harley suggested and held out his hands. "My roommate dropped out after, like, a month? I got the whole room to myself. Nobody will notice."

Peter didn't know if it was that good of an idea, but what would Harley do? Turn into the next Rhino? Doubtful. So he handed the helmet over, though still a little reluctantly, because he really had wanted to take a look inside.

*

Harley didn't come to class the next day. At first, Peter didn't notice. Oversleeping after a day like yesterday wasn't that uncommon for either of them. And they didn't have all the same courses, so Peter didn't make the connection until after his lunch when the classroom was still half full of people but none of them were Harley. None of them clacked their stupid piercing against their teeth while thinking and grinned at him and called him _darlin_ ' or had that stupid southern accent Peter wanted to hear whispering in his ear in the middle of the night.

Admitting that he was worried was pretty low on Peter's to-do list for the day. In fact, it was the last point, if it even made the list at all. But concentrating when Harley's usual seat was empty and nobody challenged him to a thought-provoking discussion seemed to be impossible. Peter wouldn't say he missed it, but then again he was pretty good at deceiving himself. That was, until he came back to his dorm room after classes and couldn't even sit still for one minute.

"You look worried," Ned noted as he watched Peter walk across the way too small dorm room while not even pretending to do the homework laid out on his bed. Ned, on the other hand, seemed a little exhausted by Peter's running.

Peter stopped dead in his tracks and turned to his roommate. "What? No way," he denied while jumping on his bed, scattering the notes. It took all his self-control not to literally walk up the walls. "Why would I be worried?"

"Don't you have an exam next week?" Ned mused.

"No!" Peter let himself fall on the bed and covered his face with an arm after pulling the sleeve of his hoodie way over his wrist to ensure it wouldn't ride up and show his soulmark. One of his legs dangled off the edge and rested against his backpack. He couldn't even count on both hands what was currently going on in his life, and he was sad to say that 'upcoming exams' almost didn't make it in the Top 10.

"Betty and I are planning to study together," Ned rambled on, having already gotten comfortable with the fact that Peter liked to be melodramatic – Ned's words, not his own. "We thought about going to a coffeeshop. She says it's pretty relaxing."

Peter was kind of jealous. Ned knew exactly who he liked and in what way, yet Peter was stuck with that damned _H_ and didn't carry even a hint of romantic feelings for his soulmate. Sure, Harry was a great friend and Peter had read an article or two about platonic soulmates. But he had tried to think of Harry as more. Had wished for more. That would make things so much easier. Yet Harry met with his study group right now and Peter didn't particularly crave his company. Of course he was his best friend, but Peter didn't want to cuddle him or kiss him and feel that _damned tongue piercing_ …

He felt bad for Ned rambling on and on about what he planned to do with Betty on their dates. But he just couldn't pretend to listen or get Harley out of his mind. And yeah, okay, maybe he _was_ worried. "You know what," he interrupted Ned and sat up. "I think you're right."

Ned frowned. "I know, about what part?"

"Having that exam," Peter said, which wasn't a total lie. He did have that exam and he should learn. "You know Harley's room number? You're friends, right?"

Ned's frown deepened. "Just what are you about to do?"

"Oh, just," Peter held up his backpack with one hand. "He needs the notes. The professor said it'll be on the exam."

If Ned didn't believe him, he didn't let it show. So Peter got the room number and was halfway across the campus before he thought about the possibility that Harley maybe didn't want to see him. They didn't really talk outside their suits except for arguing during class. But Peter couldn't back down now, could he? And Harley really needed those notes.

*

So he stood in front of the nondescript door for a minute before finally gathering up the nerves to actually knock. Silence answered him. Which, yeah, Peter could have expected. Just because Harley hadn't been to class didn't mean he was sick or unable to get out of his room. If Peter didn't have way sharper senses than a normal human, he probably wouldn't have heard the faint mumbling on the other side of the door over his own thoughts.

Peter didn't know if Harley had said 'come in' or whatever, he just opened the door and stepped into the mess that was supposed to be Harley's room. He didn't even make it two steps inside without the urge to jump on the nearest wall and cling there. With all the clothes and notes strewn around on the floor and the curtains drawn closed so they barely let in any light, Peter's senses got scrambled pretty quickly. So he stayed near the door and waited until his eyes adjusted to the half-darkness.

"… the fuck?" Harley's voice was barely over a whisper. It came from somewhere on Peter's right.

"Oh, hey." What were you supposed to say to a guy you only met while wearing a mask or with other people around?

Then again, what was the right way to communicate with a hot dude who only wore one of his bigger leather bracelets while lying on the covers of his bed in only t-shirt and boxers? Peter didn't know, but then again his brain function was pretty limited with how he had to focus on every bare inch of skin and honestly, he shouldn't look at Harley like that. His throat shouldn't be that dry all of a sudden. As far as he knew, Harley didn't have any heightened senses, or else he would have made a snarky remark about Peter's heart beating way too fast and way too loudly by now.

"I, um." Peter cleared his throat. "You weren't at class."

"No shit," Harley breathed and fumbled with something on the nightstand. A second later, he turned on a small lamp and screwed his eyes shut as he fell back on the bed, groaning.

With a little more light, Peter finally could tell just how awful Harley looked. He was pretty tanned by default, but right now his face was pale, his hair looked even messier than usual but in an unkempt way and if Peter's nose was right, he hadn't showered. Or done his laundry in a month or so.

"I … was worried," Peter admitted quietly. Seeing just how right he was almost made him feel bad for all the E-rated thoughts he'd had about Harley just a minute earlier.

"Aw, darlin', came to kiss me better?"

Or maybe not. "Came to drop off notes," Peter gave his excuse, still not moving from his spot in the door.

"Ugh." Harley rolled into his stomach and groaned into the pillow. "I can't learn. Not now."

"What happened, anyways?" Peter asked as he carefully stepped over a shirt and a pair of boots to drop his backpack off in the desk chair, and started collecting all the dirty laundry along his path to put in an empty basket.

He didn't get an immediate answer. And while Harley mumbled and groaned into his pillow, not really moving, Peter watched him. Nobody could blame him or tell him not to, right? Least of all Harley, who didn't seem to mind that usually. It was Peter's own discomfort with his infatuation that brought on his embarrassment. And Harley of course added to this. How was he to tell if all that flirting and _darlin'_ and stuff wasn't just a game?

Worst part, though: he wasn't Harry. He still was that prick who swooped in to save his guts against the Sandman and then decided to stay in New York and tease Peter and then they were in the same college classes. All by chance, it seemed. Whereas Harry, whom he had known since middle school, got more and more distanced every day.

A heavy sigh pulled Peter out of his own thoughts. "Wasn't careful enough," Harley said and that was when Peter remembered his initial question. "I'll be fine by tomorrow or so."

"Uh-huh," Peter acknowledged right before he found the Rhino's helmet on top of a stack of books. "Were you planning on doing anything with that?"

He heard rustling and then a weird sound coming from the bed. When Peter turned to look, Harley frowned at him and his mouth hung open. "What do you think you're doing?"

Peter dropped the rest of the laundry in the basket. "Making sure I don't step on anything?"

"You're … cleaning my room."

"Right." Peter shoved both hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Sorry."

"Oh, no, keep going." Harley managed a small grin, though it still looked tired. "You can come by weekly. There's some change for the washing machine on my desk."

Peter huffed and threw the last dirty shirt he found right at Harley's face. "I didn't need to worry, did I? Clearly you're fine."

*

After getting a bit of food and water into Harley – which felt more like a chore than cleaning his room – Peter was pretty sure he was going to be fine. Still exhausted and bruised, but okay. They had gone over their latest assignments and before he knew it, the sun was already setting and Peter still hadn't touched the homework due tomorrow. But he did put on a machine of laundry.

He wouldn't be getting around to doing it, though. On his way back, Peter stopped in front of the library and frowned at the lights shining through its massive windows. He knew Harry was in there right now with his study group and they hadn't talked all day. As Peter debated with himself if he should wait for Harry, the front doors opened and his best friend came down the stairs. All he could do was stare a little dumbfounded.

Harry, upon noticing him, stopped and did the same. "Hey," he then greeted Peter and came closer after waving two other students bye. "What are you doing here?"

"I, um." Peter cleared his throat. "I forgot something at the lab." The lie was out before he could even think about it, and he immediately felt bad for it. There wasn't anything wrong with just saying the truth. Harry knew he and Harley shared some courses and bringing a sick student notes wasn't illegal or anything. Then again, that had been a lie to himself to convince him it was necessary to check up on Harley. So there wasn't anything he could say to correct this, except 'Harley is hot and I was worried because we were doing superhero stuff and he got hurt'.

"Oh, that's right, you got that big project going on." Harry smiled so sweetly it formed a knot in Peter's stomach. "How is it coming along?"

"Fine," Peter choked out and hoped his voice didn't betray him. "Just … it was a long day."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, same. Walk back with me?" He nodded in the direction of his dorm.

"Yeah, sure."

Peter relaxed for a bit and listened to Harry talk about his upcoming exam. He didn't have much knowledge about that environmental science stuff Harry studied, but listening to him talk about pollution and weird stuff they could do to water and whatnot was interesting nonetheless. And everything was better than to admit he had lied to his best friend.

Even though Harry went on and on about his latest research, his eyes darted all over the campus. Peter didn't know what this was about; usually, when Harry was so invested in a topic, his gaze was fixed on Peter as he watched every reaction carefully to expand on stuff Peter didn't get. Today, his words were long and complicated and Peter couldn't decipher any of them and didn't ask questions, but Harry also never explained. It was the weirdest conversation they had ever had.

So Peter wasn't all that sad when they stopped at Harry's dorm, hugged and he watched his best friend go inside. Whatever was going on, Harry wouldn't talk about it. And it never crossed Peter's mind to ask any questions that might be uncomfortable for any of them. But when the main door closed and he was left alone on the path, Peter still wondered what their relationship was becoming. Harry was supposed to be his soulmate, so why had understanding him become this hard?


	4. Neon Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present you: the whole reason why I even started this fic.

"Come on, it's going to be fun!"

"I don't think so. I really have to –"

"Don't say 'study'. Please!"

"But I …" Peter trailed off. He looked at the textbook in his lap, then at Ned standing in front of his bed with crossed arms and a hat on. "I don't know."

"You can tell Harry to come, too," Ned didn't let it go. "Come on. You're in college. You should get the full experience!"

"I am," Peter deadpanned and held up his textbook. "This is why I'm here. Plus, I'm not even old enough to drink." _And it gets dark soon_ , he added silently, which was the perfect time to sneak out and go on patrol. Especially when Ned was away.

Ned rolled his eyes. "So?"

"I just … don't think it's a good idea."

"You don't know that for sure."

Ned was right, he didn't know that. A thousand reasons popped up in Peter's head why this was a bad idea, but he wasn't sure any of them were actually valid. The last time he had gone to a party, or rather to homecoming, the dad of the girl he liked had been the Vulture. How high was the chance this would happen again? And even then, who _did_ he like? Harry, of course, his best friend and soulmate. And Harley. Though he was still denying this most of the time. But he doubted any of their parents would randomly show up and make a mess of things.

*

So Peter stood in the huge common room of one of these frat buildings an hour later and felt utterly lost. He hadn't thought much about what to wear and was quite happy about having picked out just a shirt and jeans, as usual; everyone looked at least a little normal, albeit tipsy. As Ned had explained, being the first at a party was a big no-no. Still, there was practically nobody around whom Peter knew as he scanned the room. The music was loud, people sat on two big couches or helped themselves to drinks lined up on a long table at the side of the room and stood around, drinking and a few of them even danced. Peter hadn't seen this many people in such a tiny space before.

"Sure this was a good idea?" Even though Harry stood right next to him, he had to lean over to practically scream into Peter's ear. "I know how you are with people!"

Peter honestly didn't know. He looked back at Harry, who frowned and looked around and had a hand on his lower back. Peter fumbled with the armband he had taken out of his desk drawer to cover his soulmark. What if people still saw it? What if he was just bad at hiding?

Or even worse, what if he touched someone? Somewhere, Peter had read about stuff like this and he honestly couldn't think about this now. No, Harry was his soulmate and would always be, even though they both hid the spots where their marks were. He shouldn't worry too much about it and just enjoy this … party.

"I'll get us something to drink!" When Harry suddenly let go of him, Peter felt like falling for a second. And then it was over and Harry walked over to the drinks and he was left here, standing all alone and with a queasy stomach while he watched Ned greet Betty and a girl chatting up Harry. What was he supposed to do now? Stand around like he didn't know what to do with himself?

"'sup, loser?"

Peter jumped. A girl with black curls and a flower dress appeared next to him, a red cup with something that probably was alcohol in it in a hand, and looked Peter up and down with a raised eyebrow.

The girl, probably not much older than him, raised her cup in his direction and took a sip. "You look like a lost, sad puppy."

"Do I?" Peter blinked at her. Was it that obvious that he didn't feel comfortable with this many people around? For someone who had lived his whole life in New York, that thought sounded quite pathetic even to him.

"Kinda. I'm MJ, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," Peter managed. "Peter."

MJ nodded and then waved at someone. Peter followed her gaze and a girl with long, almost white hair waved back. She smiled sweetly and made her way across the room, only to be stopped by a guy. He had his back to Peter and he frowned a little, not really sure what to make of that. Then, the blonde girl hooked her arm around one of the guy's and made him follow her. Rolled-up sleeves of a flannel, ripped jeans and half a ton of bracelets; there was only one guy who looked exactly like this.

As soon as Peter saw his suspicions confirmed, his frown deepened. "Do you know _everyone_?" He couldn't help but ask as they joined MJ and him.

"Pretty much?" Harley grinned. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight, darlin'."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself." MJ rolled her eyes before she leaned forward and the blonde girl kissed her briefly. "I'm the one who introduced you to Gwen."

"And you must be Peter," Gwen said in this moment. "Hi, Gwen Stacey, though Harley probably didn't mention me yet. He's always way too busy talking about you or his precious potato gun."

"What?" Peter didn't know he had been the topic of conversation. Or was recognizable except in his Spider-Man suit. And also – "What's a potato gun?"

Gwen looked at Harley, then back at him. And Harley … grinned. Peter wasn't sure if it was because of the alcohol or something else, but his cheeks were a little flushed. "Well, what can I say? You're way prettier than the girls."

"Ugh, speak for yourself," MJ rolled her eyes, but her face was so neutral that Peter couldn't tell if she was actually annoyed or not.

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?" Peter asked.

But before any of them could elaborate, Harley pulled out his phone. Peter knew the shift in his personality by now. Even though his face was covered by a mask more often than not, that subtle change in his posture was enough to alarm him. Harley mumbled something that sounded like a curse, which honestly wasn't that surprising by now.

"What is it?" MJ asked.

"Gotta go," Harley said and put the phone away. The smile returned, but if anyone else noticed how forced it was, they didn't say anything. "Walk me back?"

Peter usually would deny. He looked around; Ned and Betty had found a place on a couch and were cuddling, and Harry was kind of swarmed by girls. He looked in Peter's direction and gestured at him to come over, but Peter shook his head and motioned with both hands that he was leaving. Harry would understand, and there wasn't even time to say bye. "Of course."

As soon as they were outside, Harley fell into a jog. It was still a bit chilly and Peter kind of regretted not bringing a jacket. "Police alert," Harley explained on their way back to their dorms. "Something Hulk-like is loose."

"The _Hulk_?" Peter gasped, and it wasn't because he was out of breath.

"No, stupid, it's just kind of like the Hulk." Harley stopped at a crossroads where they were to part ways to their respective dorms. "Not an Avengers-level threat, according to the news. It's running wild in the financial district."

Peter nodded. "See you there!"

*

_Something Hulk-like_ was the best description the police had, and with good reason. The thing was big, easily beating the Hulk by a head or so, and a bright neon green. Something like metal plates stuck from its head and torso in a dark violet, making it look like a bodysuit and hat.

"That looks like an over-sized goblin," Iron Lad dryly commented as he landed on a rooftop next to Peter.

Even though it wasn't visible under his mask, Peter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and we should do something about it. Got a plan?"

"Pfft no."

And with that, Iron Lad charged in the direction of that Green Goblin, who slammed their hands in the stone and glass of a particularly tall building and climbed it like King Kong. Was it too much to ask for a quiet evening? Then again, Peter should probably thank the Goblin for saving him from that awfully awkward party.

So he followed Iron Lad, swinging from roof to roof and hoping that the building already was evacuated. The Goblin shrieked in a tone that made his skin crawl. As soon as Peter reached the building they were climbing and clung to an unbroken window, he stopped. That thing was way bigger than expected.

"Should we get it down?" Iron Lad asked and flew over the Goblin's head.

Peter looked down and immediately shook his head. "Bad idea!" A few people had already gathered, who knew what they had been doing this late, and if Peter squinted, he could see one or two smartphones pointed up.

Iron Lad must have noticed, too, because he didn't question Peter's decision. He fired an energy beam at the Goblin and probably made it just angrier. At least Peter didn't see any effect this may have had, only an extraordinarily sharp claw. Iron Lad managed to avoid it barely, flying further away from the building. The Goblin didn't seem to care much, they clawed their way up to the top of the building and looked around.

"And what do you propose we do instead?" Iron Lad asked as he flew next to Peter, who climbed the building, too. Or rather he ran up.

"Dunno," Peter shrugged. "I'm usually improvising, didn't you notice?"

"Yeah, but you're way better at it than me."

"True."

They didn't have the chance to form a plan since the Goblin jumped in just that moment. Peter winced as he watched the big green thing crash on a flat rooftop next to the skyscraper, at least 20 floors lower. The walls shook and cracked, even. Peter traded a look with Iron Lad.

"Knock it out?" He proposed.

Iron Lad managed to shrug. "Sounds good to me."

Peter jumped, shooting his web at the large water tank on top of the building and pulled himself on top of it as Harley followed, flanking the Goblin from the other side. Peter wanted to grab the claw with a web, but the Goblin reacted way faster than anticipated. They grabbed the web and pulled Peter from the water tank. Shit!

Peter flailed. He did a somersault toward the Goblin. Iron Lad yelled something, but he couldn't comprehend the words. There was just this second, massive claw reaching for him and Peter shielded his face with the other arm, now screaming too as the claw ripped right through his suit. He crashed into the rooftop face-first.

"Damn, you okay, Pete?"

"Ugh," Peter grumbled into the floor. His arm hurt. A look at it told him it wasn't broken, though the suit was ripped and showed bare, bloody skin. And his web shooter fell onto the floor in pieces. That claw must have been made of something strong enough to rip apart carefully welded carbon-fiber and a synthetic fiber similar to proper kevlar but way bendier.

"Was that a yes or –" Iron Lad couldn't finish his way too stupid question. A blessing to Peter's ears, though it came because the Goblin had found their next target and grabbed Iron Lad's arm. A scream told Peter that it seemed to be strong enough to crush the armor, too.

He used his only functioning web shooter to grab a hold of the Goblin's arm and pulled. Iron Lad came with it inevitably, but the Goblin let go and turned to Peter. His eye's widened. The Goblin shrieked again and that was the time Peter seriously considered building something smell-canceling into the suit because oh boy, that _reeked_. He managed a backflip onto the water tank to avoid being hit by another claw. But the Goblin had two of them and the other one crushed Peter right against it. All air left his lungs and he fell to the floor, gasping and stunned.

Peter blinked and as he managed a deep breath a few seconds later, he saw Iron Lad flying over the Goblin's head. One arm of his armor was completely ripped off and revealed bare skin, the other was badly damaged. Just like Peter's eyes, because he couldn't comprehend how Iron Lad managed the energy beam without the help of his armor. That was just … wrong. Or magic. Or both.

However he managed to pull it off, it hit the Goblin right in the eye and sent him even more into a frenzy. Peter tried his web shooter; the plan was to grab a hold of the Goblin's head and pull it in another direction, hopefully confusing it. But as that was a solid five seconds of plan, of course something had to go wrong. He was out of web fluid.

"Really? Now?" Peter glared at the malfunctioning piece of tech on his wrist.

"Little help?" Iron Lad asked, barely avoiding both claws and flying higher, his … energy beam or whatever functioning as some kind of backup for his apparently malfunctioning thrusters.

"I'm trying," Peter answered and looked around. He wasn't sure what to do now. In terms of strength, the Goblin outmatched both of them combined, and he couldn't find something to improvise as a weapon. So Peter did the only thing that would come into his mind: jump onto their back and climb up to the neck. Maybe pull another Rhino.

Whatever kind of weird experiment had gone wrong, though, the Goblin seemed way smarter than the Hulk. They grabbed Peter around the middle and threw him. Peter crashed against a small wall, which served its intended purpose and saved him from falling right off the roof. That was crazier than any roller-coaster he'd ever been on!

Peter blinked up at the Goblin, this time upside down, and followed a red trail, a shooting star in between skyscrapers and in front of the dark sky. He blinked again and this time it wasn't a shooting star but Iron Lad, sailing right in his direction while the Goblin shrieked again and turned away from them. Peter managed to untangle his limbs. Whatever Iron Lad's powers, his thrusters didn't seem to work and the bright violet energy beam seemed to fail, too.

He didn't know if this was the best or worst timing ever because the Goblin turned away and … fled? Whatever they did, Peter's main concern was Iron Lad, the scream in his ear and the fact that he wouldn't hit the elevated edge like Peter. If his tech was failing, he would hit the streets down below!

So Peter got up even though his back and left leg protested, even though he was bleeding through his suit and breathing was way more painful than it should be. He sprinted to the part of the ledge where Iron Lad was supposed to fall off. "Get closer to me!" He yelled, really hoping this would work.

Iron Lad stretched out the functioning arm of his armor, and a small energy beam catapulted him a little closer to the rooftop. Peter held onto the ledge with his uninjured arm, stretched out the other and grabbed Iron Lad. Wet blood almost made him slip from Peter's grip as he grabbed the bare wrist with his own injured arm. And then immense pain shot through his other arm and head.

Peter didn't know if he was yelling or Harley. Probably both of them. He screwed his eyes shut, Harley's weight still on his arm and fingers closing right around where one of the Goblin's claws had cut deep into Peter's flesh. Like a thousand needles puncturing an already deep wound and inflicting more and more damage, burning pain soared through him. Peter's whole body revolted, pleading to let go of Harley. He still felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Screaming didn't leave room for breathing, and he grabbed onto Harley with both hands now because he _couldn't_ let go, no matter what. No matter how much he hurt. He didn't allow himself to be responsible for Harley getting hurt more, or worse, dying.

And then, just as it had come, all the pain vanished. Peter's body didn't register it right away, but when it did, the sudden numbness was replaced with the warmth one got while taking a hot, relaxing bath. He managed to open his eyes and really feel himself lying on the cold rooftop and holding onto Harley. The wound on his arm had closed right under Harley's fingers and his back didn't protest anymore. When he pushed a leg under his stomach to pull himself and Harley up, it didn't hurt, either.

Harley grabbed the ledge with his previously uninjured hand and helped pull himself up. They fell over each other, still not letting go and cold armor dug into Peter's side. He swore if he stopped touching Harley right then and there, he would probably collapse and not get up again. Apart from the missing pain, he finally noticed something else as they pulled themselves up in a sitting position. A warm tingle on his left wrist. The one Harley held on to. The one with the small _H_ on it. Peter's stomach turned. Harley opened the mask and revealed a stunned face, much like his own, mouth open and eyes wide.

"Your hand is magic," Peter blurted out. Those were the first words that would come to mind.

"Yeah, I noticed." Harley nodded. "And I'm not an over-sized meat pancake, either."

"Yeah." Peter mirrored the nod. "But … Harry?"

"Do I look like a Harry?" Harley raised both eyebrows.

"But – but –" Peter raised his arm, the one Harley still held on to. "But … Harry!"

"What _Harry_? Use your words like a big boy, Pete!"

Before he could fumble for an explanation of all the things shooting through his head – the soulmark, Harley's apparent magic powers, their healed wounds, how strength came back to him and made him feel warm and safe – a crash in the distance made both of them wince. The Goblin still wreaked havoc.

They had crashed into the Oscorp building, and if possible, Peter's eyes widened even more. "Shit," he gasped and pulled himself up, taking Harley with him.

"Right." Harley cleared his throat. "But we're talking about this later!"

His magic or whatever Harley called it seemed to have returned just fine, because he could fly up without his thrusters no problem. They still looked kind of broken, though. Peter jumped from roof to roof, climbing up and giving himself a running start. It seemed way easier now, even more than if he had been completely healthy. Whatever this touch meant – and he already had a pretty solid, albeit scary theory –, it had given him more strength. So he managed to cling to the Oscorp building and stick to it, running up the floors until he reached the one the Goblin had crashed into almost all the way on top.

Harley already hovered in front of the sizable hole. "That's kind of small," he said.

"Are you kidding me?" Peter frowned at him, then at the hole again. The glass desk was in pieces and the other furniture hadn't fared good against an angry green rage-monster, either, lying around on their sides, scratched up and a smaller wooden desk was split in two halves. A painting had been mutilated, too, though Peter wasn't sure if it had shown a real picture in the first place. The only unharmed things seemed to be a safe behind the broken painting and the door, which stood wide open.

"No, it's still big, but not Goblin-big," Harley said. He flew further away from the hole. "You'd see it if you weren't already half inside."

"Maybe, but I don't see the Goblin," Peter pointed out the obvious. "Did they vanish?"

"What, _poof_ and they're gone?" He could practically hear Harley's frown. "Should we … I dunno, go inside and check?"

Peter peeked over the border of the hole again. "I can't make out movement."

And with that, half a dozen people in dark clothes and with bulletproof vests – security, if Peter had to guess – swarmed into the destroyed office, weapons raised and probably ready to shoot, as security guys were.

Peter swallowed the last bit of pride he had after this night. "A little help?" He asked and stretched out a hand toward Harley.

But Harley didn't make a snide remark, just came closer and grabbed Peter's hand to give him a flying start toward the next rooftop. Peter crashed a little too hard, rolling a few feet before landing upright again. Okay, they really had to work on that!

"You okay?" Harley asked as he touched down next to him.

"I'm not injured, if you mean that."

"Yeah … sort of."

That was when Peter began to shake. Of all the bad things that could have happened, and that _did_ happen, touching Harley was probably the worst.


	5. Discolored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my metaphors.

As soon as they were back in Harley's dorm room, Peter pulled off his mask and started pacing all over the room. And the walls. And ceiling. He didn't know yet what to do with his new-found strength and energy; it was like emptying an energy drink into his tenth cup of coffee and then wondering why he was hyperactive.

"Hey!"

Peter caught the textbook thrown at him no problem, and then blinked at it. And Harley, who was upside down right now with a hand on his hip and a scowl on his face. Or rather, Peter was.

"Now I have to deal with people asking why there's footprints on the wall!"

"You bring people in here when there's this in the corner?" Peter pointed to the Iron Lad armor mostly disassembled on the floor.

"No, but I _could_ ," Harley argued. It didn't sound convincing, especially when he caught the textbook Peter threw back at him and knelt in front of his bed. He pulled out a cardboard box and the next time he threw something at Peter, it was an energy bar.

Peter dropped off the ceiling and landed as silently as possible. "So," he said with a mouth full of chocolate and protein, "any idea where that Green Goblin went?"

Harley, mouth equally full with food, shook his head. "Not a clue. I mean, they didn't just vanish, that's for sure. They trashed that office pretty badly."

"What if this Hulk theory applies to more than just the color?" Peter suggested.

"You mean there's _another_ human who can turn into a green rage monster?"

Peter wasn't fond of the idea, especially since he had been briefly reincarnated as the Green Goblin's bowling ball. He grabbed another energy bar as he sat down next to Harley. "Maybe?"

"But what does that have to do with Oscorp?"

They fell silent, apart from the chewing noises. Neither of them seemed to be fond of the idea that this person might have something to do with the company Harry's dad ran, especially Peter. He didn't want Harry to be in any kind of danger, and if there was a monster running around the halls of Oscorp, well, that was the definition of 'danger'.

They emptied the cardboard box full of energy bars, peanut butter jars and three bags of chips in less than half an hour. Peter's metabolism thanked him and Harley seemed pretty content, too, as he stood up and rummaged in his closet. Next thing he knew, Harley had thrown something else at him. Peter blinked as he fumbled with the clothes and made out an AC/DC shirt and gray sweatpants.

"You can't run around campus with that spider-suit of yours," Harley said before he pulled his own shirt over his head and Peter was left to stare at him changing like there was nothing to it. Even though he was pretty sure Harley didn't notice either this or the blush creeping up on his cheeks, he still felt kind of bad for doing so.

"I wonder how you managed to build a suit this functional when your room looks like this," he mumbled and started changing, too. It took most of his energy not to step on anything Harley had lying around.

"Oh, I didn't build it in here." When Peter pulled the shirt over his face, he noticed Harley staring, too. So maybe his guilty conscience shout take a step back. "I interned for Stark Industries about a year before going to college. Mr. Stark wanted to test my skills and it was paid, too. Plus the perfect opportunity to get my hands on a few blueprints and modify them."

Peter couldn't even put into words what he was thinking. "But you – That suit – … you _what_?"

Harley shrugged and threw a bracelet at Peter, along with a lopsided grin. "True, I'm a year older than you. Maybe you should take that into consideration before you snark at me in the future."

"You wish," Peter mumbled and shook his head.

His gaze wandered to the suit and his feet followed. Now he was curious. On the first look, he couldn't make out any major changes to the Iron Man armors he'd seen over the years, but if he looked closer he could make out a bodysuit beneath it, and no obvious energy diversion to the arms. Which, yeah, made sense in retrospect. Harley still sat where Peter had left him in front of the bed, obviously proud at his work the way he grinned.

"And why the hell are your arms … glowing?" Peter couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, that's because I can do magic." Harley held out an arm and it started glowing a light purple; the same purple the connection lines of the suit glowed. The realization and wonder were probably written all over Peter's face. "It's a bit of a stretch to power the suit _and_ shoot at my mortal enemies, but hey – the things you do for justice, and shit like that."

"Can I learn that, too?" Peter pointed.

Harley laughed and stopped glowing, thankfully. "I don't think so. The way we were told, it's some kind of hereditary system. If, say, my grand-grand-grandma had magic, there's a tiny chance I can get it. Even if she was so grand she's dead for 200 years by now or whatever. Anyways, Theo – my sister – and I got it and we went to Strange Academy. New Orleans, if you ever want to drop by."

"That's a bit much for one evening," Peter mumbled. He took the last bag of chips, found a few crumbs still in there and emptied it in his mouth before dropping onto the bed next to Harley.

"Hey, you got super strength and some kind of panic button that gives you super reflexes and shit," Harley said with a raised eyebrow. "Don't act like that's worth less than a pair of glowing hands."

"It's not a panic button." Peter crumbled the chips bag. "It's more like … a constant panic attack."

"Oh. That sucks."

"Kinda."

Neither of them said a word for the next few minutes, and Peter knew exactly why. Or at least why he kept silent himself and instead fumbled with the hem of Harley's shirt and tried not to bury his face in it. The bracelet around his wrist felt kind of weird since it was thicker than his own, and when he looked closely, there was a small rainbow stripe right along the closing mechanism. And beneath it … was the _H_. The small, simple _H_ that had changed his life since the day he was born and now had managed to turn his whole world upside down.

As if on cue, Peter's suit started kind of vibrating where he left it in the middle of the room. An incoming call, which he ignored. Maybe that was Harry, maybe he should answer it, but he couldn't. Not when he was wondering how his whole world felt so warm when he touched Harley instead.

"Hey," Peter mumbled and loosened the bracelet a bit so he could push it up his arm and reveal the letter. "Can you … I mean, if you don't mind – would you show me …?"

"What did I tell you about using your words properly?" Harley sighed and held out his arm. He hadn't put a bracelet over his wrist yet, so Peter could take a good look at it.

And there it was, a small, black, innocent _P_ right over Harley's pulse. Just … sitting there like it was nobody's business. And Peter couldn't take his eyes off it. He held out his own wrist right next to it. The letters looked exactly the same in terms of size, color and font. Not like that … weird _P_ Harry had shown him a few years ago. An intricate design in a dark blue. Maybe they looked different depending on whom they belonged to and Harry's soulmate, whoever that mysterious P-person may be, had a similar design on their wrist.

Still, the thought of Harley having a matching soulmark made Peter's stomach churn. Harley's fingers twitched and he moved closer to Peter. "Can I … touch you again?"

Peter frowned and looked up. There wasn't a single indication on Harley's face that he meant it in some kind of weird way. Just plain curiosity and Peter didn't know what to do with that. He couldn't even sass Harley for being inappropriate! So he held out his arm a bit further to indicate consent and then Harley's warm fingers touched the _H_ , rough skin carefully tracing the letter and Peter felt a deep, comforting warmth in his whole body.

The feeling washed over him like what he imagined a wave would be like. It started in his wrist, right where Harley's fingers were, and moved through his whole body. All his tense muscles seemed to relax at once and the queasy feeling in his stomach vanished. Like it had never been there. A second wave came, pumping more and more energy through him, and Peter's pulse picked up. He yanked his hand back.

"What was that?" He whispered, eyes wide and still focused on Harley's hand.

Harley visibly shivered. "I don't know," he said with a hoarse voice before clearing his throat. "I mean – it's just like when you saved me. Minus all the pain."

"Right." Peter nodded. "Do you feel any pain now? I mean, are you still hurt?"

Harley shook his head. "You?"

"Me neither."

"Wait, I have an idea." Harley jumped from the bed and rummaged around on his desk, opening and closing drawers. "Damn, could you tidy up sometime? And do another round of laundry?" After a while, he yelled triumphantly and held out what Peter identified as a … scalpel.

"Where did you get _that_?"

"My ex-roommate stole one from the lab," Harley shrugged and grabbed a box of tissues before he sat next to Peter again. "He studied biology, I think. Anyways …" He pulled out a few tissues and placed them in front of himself on the blanket.

"Do I want to know what you're doing?" Peter followed his movements with his eyes and a very suspicious feeling.

"I want to test a theory." A small grin appeared on Harley's face. "If you don't mind, I need your help. Just wait a few seconds and then touch me, okay?"

Peter frowned. "Wait? For what?"

Harley didn't answer. Instead he cut his arm with the scalpel, and a red line formed immediately. Blood pooled out of it, running down his arm and dripping on the tissues. "I sure hope I didn't just mess up my blanket," Harley mumbled as he pulled a face, probably from the pain. "Now?"

"You're crazy," Peter breathed but did as he was told and touched Harley's arm next to the wound. "Ouch!"

Peter could have let go, and by all rights he _should_ have, as a sharp pain shot through his arm. Like cutting into it with a knife. But there was no wound, and soon Harley's own cut got smaller and disappeared in mere seconds. "No way!"

"You knew this would happen," Peter accused him after finally letting go. There wasn't even a hint of a wound, only the blood still on Harley's arm and the tissues.

"Did not!" Harley ran his fingers over the spot where the cut had been. "I just … well, I thought you could make the pain disappear. Like when you held my hand on that roof. It got worse for a bit, even the parts that didn't hurt. Like my back and leg."

"That's where I was hurt," Peter mumbled, still not ready to believe any of this despite the evidence. But he couldn't deny that this just happened. "And I … my hand felt like it was being crushed. I mean, not the one that I grabbed you with."

Harley slowly nodded. "So … is that a thing? I mean, is that supposed to happen? I've never read about it before."

"You got a healing factor?" Peter tried to be rational about this and shoved all of his confused feelings as far down as they would go.

"Nope."

"Well … I do."

Confusion bubbled up again. And that warmth he wanted to feel again. That warmth he never had when touching Harry. All that yearning for an _again_ he had been missing for years and years. And now it sat right across from him, scalpel still in one hand and looked just as confused as Peter felt.

He needed to get out of here.

*

Peter didn't care that he was walking around campus in Harley's clothes. Which kind of felt a lot like those walk of shames he'd seen in movies, but ultimately, he didn't care. The fresh air really helped clear his head, and not being stuck in a room with Harley did the rest. He'd even been so nice to borrow Peter his backpack to carry the suit back to his dorm.

Which wasn't exactly where he was headed, though. Peter stopped by the library and checked his phone again. The missed call wasn't from Harry but from Mr. Stark, and Harry probably still was with his study group. Peter didn't know where exactly in the library he had to look, but it couldn't be that hard.

Sure enough, he found them on the ground floor. Harry sat in the middle of a group of five; three girls Peter obviously didn't know, and a guy he'd also never seen before. They were deep in a discussion, pointing at notes strewn on the table and flipping through textbooks. None of them noticed Peter until he came right up to them and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry flinched, then turned around and his eyes grew wide. "Oh, hey Peter," he said and a small smile formed on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you." Peter knew how stupid this sounded. It was a bad sentence and an even worse explanation, but he didn't want to tell everyone around here what he was doing. The whole group fell silent.

"Is that your friend you talked about?" One of the girls asked as she closed her textbook. She waved at Peter.

He wasn't too great at social interaction, so he only waved back and grabbed Harry's arm as soon as he'd stood up. "Look, this is really important to me," Peter explained and walked Harry outside. Somehow, it felt like he couldn't breathe right inside a building. Then again, the fresh air of the night didn't exactly help, either. But at least out here, he wasn't trapped by walls and his thoughts could run as free as they wanted.

"What's going on?" Harry asked and stopped a few feet away from the stairs leading inside the building. "Talk to me, please. You look … horrible. Whose clothes are these?"

Peter could imagine. Unkempt hair, shaggy clothes Harley had last washed … whenever. And if his face showed even half the frantic thoughts running through his head, Harry probably thought he was pretty close to a proper panic attack. Which wasn't too far off, to be honest. "Can you show me your wrist?"

Harry blinked at him and freed his arm. "What, why?"

"I just …" Peter needed to breathe. To right his thoughts. Push them in a productive direction. But his brain wouldn't comply. "I just need to see it for a second, okay?"

"No, this is not okay." Harry took a step back. "Tell me what's going on, please."

"I think I found my soulmate," Peter choked out, quietly and embarrassed. He put a hand over his mouth to keep himself from sobbing right then and there. That wasn't the plan. He was supposed to be Harry's soulmate, he was supposed to hate Harley and most of all, being born with a soulmark was the worst mistake the universe could have made.

"What? But –" At least Harry had the decency to look as surprised as Peter. "How? You never touch anyone."

Which wasn't exactly the answer Peter had been hoping for. Or rather, it was the exact answer he'd feared. No mention that Harry had a soulmark, no mention that they were supposed to be soulmates. Just … wonder as to how Peter had managed to accidentally touch a person for the first time in years and found out that everything he had believed since middle school was a lie. His eyes watered, but luckily the tears still held back a little.

"Peter, what's going on?" Harry whispered. At least he looked concerned.

Before he could say anything else, Peter grabbed his arm and rolled up the long sleeve. Harry hadn't bothered with a bracelet. Luckily for him, or … well, not. Because where that intricate design of a dark blue _P_ should have been, there was just … skin. Pale, unharmed skin with blue-ish veins running underneath it. No soulmark, no scar, not even a hint that there had been written anything. Peter let go of Harry's arm, but he couldn't keep his hands from shaking.

"I'm so sorry," Harry mumbled and took another step back while rolling down the sleeve. "Believe me, I really am. I just … wanted to do you a favor. You were so _sure_ and I didn't know what a real soulmark looked like, so I … well, I drew it on. We all did stupid things in middle school."

"You messed up my whole life is what you did!" Peter didn't care that the quieter Harry got, the more he raised his voice. "You lied to me for years! Do you really think a 'sorry' can cut it?"

Much like the confusion before, anger bubbled up in his chest. Peter couldn't even begin to describe how hurt and betrayed and lost he felt. Like one day, he was on a safe ship cruising through an ocean of doubt and the next thing he knew, Harry pushed him off said ship with a meek 'sorry' and left Peter to drown.

And now Harry's godawful phone rang. It broke the spell where they were just staring at each other for a minute or so and neither knew what to do now. So Harry did the next best thing and answered the call. Peter didn't move, he just watched Harry's already pretty scrunched up face lose any color. "He's what now?" He mouthed and if Peter hadn't had super hearing, he wouldn't know the words. Then, Harry continued louder. "In the hospital? Of course. I'll be right over."

Peter didn't even have sympathy left. Or rather, he did and he truly felt bad for Harry, who looked white as a sheet and swayed a little like a breeze could push him over. Despite all the betrayal bubbling like an acid inside his guts, Peter found himself asking, "What's going on?"

"My dad," Harry whispered. He just stared at the phone. "He's in the hospital. Badly injured, they said. I have to go." Without another word, Harry turned on his heels and was down the road before Peter's brain could catch up.

That would be the moment where he joined Harry. Where he didn't leave his best friend alone with his thoughts and this mess of a situation. But he couldn't bring himself to go after Harry. In fact, a weight like a massive rock sunk into his stomach much like the realization: the Green Goblin crashed into Oscorp. That office … it was probably Norman's. And Peter hadn't done anything to stop the Goblin from hurting Harry's dad.


	6. Iridescent

After a long, semi-hot shower, Peter didn't feel particularly great. But he guessed it could have been worse, and at least he was wearing his own clothes again. Ned hadn't come back from the party yet, so Peter used the time to get some tools out of his cupboard and started fixing the Spider-Man suit. It took his mind off things pretty quickly, and he even managed to replace the missing fabric.

The web shooters were something else; first, he needed to get more web fluid. And while that was relatively simple to make, reconstructing a whole web shooter would take time. Peter didn't stop, even though he was exhausted. Tired and confused and betrayed and he desperately needed something to get his mind off of things. He'd keep the bracelet, though. The soft leather was kind of worn already, and he knew he should give it back to Harley first chance he got, but it felt … good. Like it belonged on his wrist. No way in hell would Harley ever get that back.

Okay, _maybe_ Peter was still a bit pissed. At Harry, for having lied to him for years and years. And at Harley, who had the audacity to turn his life around with a simple touch and not act like he had just ruined all of Peter's fragile hopes and dreams. As they laid in front of him like the shards of a broken mirror, with way more than seven years of disasters and bad luck looming on the horizon, Peter couldn't help but wonder what his life had become.

*

Peter was the one to skip class the next day. He just couldn't muster up the strength to look Harley in the face, so he only went to the courses he knew Harley didn't take. He knew it wasn't a good solution, or one he could work with for the rest of the semester. He still needed the attendance and credits. But facing Harley and all that he represented, today? Peter just couldn't do it. At least his mood lifted a little over the course of the day, even though the constant reminder in form of the small, innocent bracelet on his wrist still remained.

Maybe that was why he didn't panic when his phone rang and an unknown number showed up on the display. He should have known better; he really should. There was too much happening all at once and he was only barely finished with rebuilding his suit during one of Ned's lectures where Peter had holed up in their dorm room. And yeah, okay, maybe he was kind of lonely and wanted someone to argue with him.

So he picked up the phone. "Yeah?"

"Finally," Harley sighed into his ear immediately. "I tried to get a hold of you the whole day, Parker. Shame on you!"

Peter flinched. This was the last thing he had expected. There were a million things he wanted to say, to accuse Harley of, but what instead came out of his mouth was: "How did you get my number?"

"Easy, I tracked down Ned." He could practically _hear_ Harley's smug grin.

"You are the worst," Peter grumbled while he put the suit in his usual backpack.

"I know, I know."

Peter wasn't able to make out Harley's mood. Usually, that was one of the few things he was really good at. By accident, he always had thought. And he really didn't want to correct himself right now. Or think too much about the whole thing. "What do you want?"

"Break into Oscorp and have a look around," came the straight forward answer. "And I think it would be better if I had a little help. So stop avoiding me and tell me when you can be there."

Peter frowned at his phone for a second. "I never said I would come," he objected. In fact, he didn't want to see Harley and put up with him right now. Sure, superhero stuff was one thing and he had thought about investigating Oscorp a little, too, but with Harley? Where everything could go wrong again? How much could he take before he broke down?

"I'd bet my life you're just as curious as me." Peter hated when Harley was right, not that he would let him know anytime soon. "Come _on_ , Pete, pretty please?"

Peter mulled it over for a bit. Of course this was a good idea; with the two of them, they could focus on investigating more than keeping an eye on their back. They maybe would even be able to find something. Then again, it was Harley. And who knew what he would do.

"Pleeease?"

"Fine," Peter sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Meet me in half an hour?"

"Fuck yes!" Harley sounded excited and kind of happy, which was weird. They both knew Harley could do it by himself if he needed to. His brain went into overdrive as he tried to think of another reason why Harley would actually be glad to see him, but none came to mind.

*

Considering they were about to scale the Oscorp building yet again, Peter really couldn't see why this was a good day. And in broad daylight, too. Given, it was almost evening by now, but the daylight was far from gone as they watched the building still with a pretty big hole in it from one of the adjacent roofs.

"You see anything up there?" Iron Lad asked.

"I think so?" Peter squinted a little. "No, sorry. Can't make out anything."

"Then we'll just have to try our luck." And with that, Iron Lad flew over.

Peter scrambled to follow, shooting his webs at one of the few small ledges of the Oscorp building and climbed up the rest. Neither of them tried to be particularly stealthy, though they probably should. But it wasn't like the Green Goblin was after them again, so they could probably have a look around without any major danger.

Through the hole in the wall, Peter could see no guards or anything in the room itself. "There's two outside, right by the door," Iron Lad informed him and he gave a small hum of acknowledgment.

They didn't notice Peter and Iron Lad sneaking into the office. The shattered glass had been cleaned off and the destroyed painting taken off the wall. What was left of the furniture was an apparently very stable round wooden table, along with two wicker chairs on the far left end and next to them a computer including monitor, which both either seemed to have survived the destruction or were to be kept in here. Long claw marks next to the sliding doors hadn't been covered up yet. Otherwise, there was nothing noteworthy.

"Did we waste our time?" Iron Lad asked and Peter could practically hear the frown.

"I really don't know what we expected," Peter mumbled.

"Yeah, but it feels like there's gotta be something in here."

But what if not? What if it had been pure coincidence that the Green Goblin had crashed the Oscorp building and whoever this office had belonged to just had bad luck? Peter walked around the room, peeking under the table and chairs, but there wasn't even a rug something could be hidden beneath.

"Hey! Have a look at this!" Iron Lad sounded excited, so Peter turned around.

There had been another, way smaller painting on the other side of the room. Peter hadn't noticed it until now since it was in the shadows, and the painting itself was framed with dark wood and showed something … abstract in ultramarine and midnight blue. He really couldn't make it out. But just as he wanted to ask what Iron Lad was doing with a painting, he pushed it aside.

"Like in the movies," he said as he revealed a safe in the wall, covered by said painting.

"No way!" Peter practically dived across the room to have a better look. It was a light silver with a touchpad, and obviously closed.

"I think I could break in there."

"That's stealing!"

"Only if we take something." Iron Lad shrugged. "Let's see …"

But before he could do anything, the sliding doors opened. Peter turned around, suddenly feeling like a burglar being caught, and froze. His stomach dropped as he saw Harry of all people standing in the door, arms bare and frown on his face. "I think we have a problem," Peter mumbled.

Which prompted Iron Lad to turn around, too. He had the audacity to wave at Harry. "Hi there, hope we're not interrupting some sneaking around."

Harry pulled a face. He hadn't looked too happy walking in, but now he seemed furious. Peter's stomach dropped and he took a step toward him, raising his hands in the process. Harry didn't know who was behind the masks, sure, but Peter already felt awful for snapping at him, even though he was still mad. There was a lot going on with his emotions, and he wasn't quite sure what he was hoping for.

"Security," Harry yelled and took a step back. "There's some guys in here, I think they're trying to steal something!"

*

"Well, that was unnecessary," Iron Lad sighed as he flew over Peter's head, away from the Oscorp building and back to their dorms.

Peter landed on a roof and watched as Iron Lad flew over him, then turned around to touch down on the same roof. He couldn't be bothered to explain himself as he removed the mask and sat down kind of ungracefully. He just couldn't take it anymore.

"Hey, what's going on?" Iron Lad asked.

But Peter only shook his head. How was he supposed to explain? Should he even? Sure, Harley was his soulmate and all that, but did that mean he had a right to Peter's emotions? Peter ran both hands through his hair and pulled his knees up to rest his head between them. His hands pulled at the hair to keep them from shaking.

"You're not gonna throw up, are you?"

"I don't know," came Peter's muffled reply. "I don't think I know anything anymore."

At least Harley didn't say anything to that. The only sound up here was the muffled traffic from below a few stories and Peter's shaky breath. This was all way too much. He already couldn't cope with the fact that his best friend since childhood had lied to him, but now Harry was also mad at Spider-Man. And while Peter was still disappointed and really could do without all the fury he felt towards Harry for lying to him, this was really their friendship on the line. The one thing Peter had always felt secure about.

Peter looked up again and blinked a few times. His eyes burnt a little but he was pretty sure he wouldn't cry. Well, like 67 percent sure. And not in front of Harley, either. That would just be embarrassing.

"Hey," Iron Lad said and stretched out a hand. "Can I help?"

Peter was up and stumbled over his feet to get away from Harley in a second. "No, don't you dare touch me," he demanded. "That's not … I can't deal with that. Please."

"Sure." Iron Lad let his hands sink and turned away from him. "Just wanted to … never mind."

"Mm." Why did every conversation lately feel like Peter fucked something up?

"Hey." Before he could sink too deep into those thoughts, Iron Lad walked across the roof. "I think we got something worth our time."

"What's that?" Peter tried to shake off the uneasy feeling and instead followed Harley, who held up a small piece of violet metal. Peter frowned at it for a few seconds. The distance between the Oscorp building seemed right and if he was correct, they had fought the Green Goblin just one or two roofs away.

"I think it belonged to the suit," Iron Lad mused.

"I just thought the same." Carefully as to not touch him by accident, Peter leaned closer. "And what are we supposed to do with it?"

"Not sure yet. But we got lab day tomorrow."

"You can't hide something like that from Mr. Stark," Peter objected. "He has eyes everywhere."

Iron Lad snorted, and somehow it sounded offended and amused at the same time. "Watch me."

Before Peter could start yet another argument, his phone rang. He jumped a little and fished it out of one of the not very big pockets he had sewn into the suit. And then frowned at it. For a few more seconds, he debated with himself if he should really answer it, but it wasn't like he had a choice. So he pressed the green button and held it to his ear. "What is it, Harry?"

"Look, Pete, I know you hate me right now," came the instant reply, jagged and kind of breathy. "But I need to talk to you. Right now?"

"What is it?" Peter repeated as an uneasy feeling made its way into his stomach.

"I can't – look, I'm literally running," Harry said, which explained him being out of breath. Neither of them had done much P.E., but at least Peter's spider powers had kept him from fainting if he had to run for more than half a minute or so.

"Um."

"Are you in your room?" Harry asked. "I'm on my way. I have … gosh, I don't even know where to start. Please meet me there."

*

How could Peter say no to this? He couldn't, and that was that. Why on earth Harley insisted on walking him back, he didn't even know or ask about. Peter was pretty sure if he had five minutes to calm down and think about his situation, _really_ think about it, he would have a proper mental breakdown. But right now, his best friend – because that was still what Harry was, despite everything – had a problem and he wanted Peter to help.

So Peter grabbed the backpack off the roof of his dorm, hidden in between the ventilation system, threw on his clothes over the suit and kind of envied Harley that he only had to step out of his suit and stash it in a corner.

"Let me get that," Harley said and grabbed the mask Peter still held in a hand. He stuffed it in his back pocket while following Peter down the stairs.

"I wouldn't have lost it," Peter complained.

"No, but you fumble with your hands when you're nervous," Harley pointed out. He jumped down the last few stairs. "Want to explain why you're fiddling with … you know, that?"

Two boys stared at them as Peter raced down the hall, Harley right on his heels, and threw open the door to his dorm. Harry sat on Peter's unmade bed but shot up as soon as the door came open. "Didn't you say – oh." Whatever Harry was going to say, he shut up and looked behind Peter.

Harley stood there, still halfway out in the hall, and waved in greeting. Peter looked down at his own hands and _oh god_ , at least he had thought of taking off the gloves with his web shooters attached. He pulled down the light sweater to further hide the rest of his suit and his soulmark, though with the people in this room, he didn't have to worry about the latter.

"What is it?" Peter asked when Harry wouldn't continue. "I thought it was urgent?"

Harry still didn't take his eyes off Harley. For a few seconds, it looked like he was going to continue, but then he just kept staring. And Harley stared right back, an eyebrow raised and his chin jugged out, like he wanted to dare Harry to do … whatever.

Peter sighed. "Honestly, I don't even care what the two of you have going on. Either talk or leave."

That seemed to snap Harry back to reality. "Well, I just watched Spider-Man and Iron Lad break into my dad's office."

Peter could practically feel the blood leaving his face. "What?"

Harry started talking about how he went to his dad in the hospital and was about to get something for him from the office or something like that, but Peter wasn't quite listening. All he could think was _no_ , over and over again. _No_ , _no_ , _no_. This couldn't be happening. Not right now, not with everything else also happening at the same time. Somehow, his head felt kind of light and full of cotton candy and the room swayed a little.

"Pete?" Harley asked from kind of far away. "You okay?"

"I couldn't believe Spider-Man was a damned _burglar_ ," Harry continued as he walked circles in Peter's room. "What if he's got something to do with my dad's condition. He was just fine the other day – I mean, still sick but okay, you know? And now he's in the hospital!"

"What the hell!" Peter blurted out. "Why does that even make sense in your head!"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "You know I'm not a fan of vigilantes."

"Well, it's not like you could do something about it." Harley walked over to Peter's bed and let himself fall on it.

Within two seconds, Harry stood in front of him. "What's that?" He asked and pointed.

Harley frowned and followed the finger. "My crotch?"

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. "No – in your back pocket."

At least Harley paled now, too. Peter wasn't sure what he should do as Harry grabbed Harley's arm to pull him to his feet again. And sure as hell, the mask he had taken from Peter dangled out of his back pocket. As Harley tried to stuff it back in, it landed on the floor. Peter swallowed, hard.

"Are you seriously telling me _you_ are one of the most despicable people in New York?" Harry snarled, which was new. Peter had never seen him so full of hate and … rage. "I shouldn't even be surprised, what with your holier than thou attitude and all that."

"What's that, again?" Harley growled right back.

"No," Peter blurted out, because he just couldn't take it anymore. He hated all the lies and deception. "I mean – he's not. Spider-Man."

Harry and Harley turned to him, looking skeptical and confused respectively. "What are you doing?" Harley mouthed and raised his arms.

"I am," Peter finished, the hem of his sweatshirt clenched between his fingers.

"You're Spider-Man?"

Peter jumped up and turned around to see Ned in the door, backpack over his shoulder and a Starbucks drink in his hand. His stomach went in the opposite direction, right through the floor, taking whatever nerves he had left right with it.

"I thought – you and Betty," Peter stammered. "That, uh – coffee date?"

"Oh, yeah, it got canceled," Ned shrugged. "Said she had to prepare for a test she'd forgotten. Her roommate is nice, though, so she's covering everything with Betty right now. You know, different major and all that – I wouldn't be a help."

"I see." Peter's voice wasn't louder than a whisper and he felt his last breath leave his body with those words.

"How could you do this to me?" Harry brought him back to reality. "I thought you were better than that!"

"Well, I'm not the one who lied about a fake soulmark for years," Peter snapped back. Everything in his head was jumbled and he probably shouldn't have said that in front of Ned, either.

Not that he had much time to think about it as Harry stormed past him, hitting Peter's shoulder hard with his own. The door slammed shut and the following silence in the room was deafening. Peter stared at the beige wood for however long. He didn't really know, or care.

What he finally did, though, was sink to the floor as tears started running down his face. His breath hitched and he put both hands over his mouth to keep the sobbing in. Now his life was perfectly, a hundred percent ruined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great, so I managed to ruin Peter's life. And I'm not even finished. Or sorry.


	7. Opalescent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself cry with this one. Oops.

Peter tried not to think. He showered, got dressed and went to the lab. Counted his steps as he walked down the path to the building. And desperately kept his thoughts off Harry who wouldn't talk to him anymore, Ned who asked too many questions about spiders, and Harley who reluctantly had left after Peter had yelled at him to get out yesterday. He couldn't make room for that, not now. He had to concentrate on his studies.

Seeing Harley hunched over his desk in the lab was something else, though. Peter just stood there for a few seconds and watched him fiddle with his project and run a hand through his hair and sigh and click with his tongue piercing against his teeth. All he wanted to do was go over and touch him and forget about everything else.

"Not working already?"

Peter jumped at Mr. Stark's voice and turned around. "Oh, hi there," he said and even managed a small smile. "Sorry, I didn't see you – I was just … uh, yeah."

"Are you daddy's student?"

Peter frowned and looked down. And sure enough, next to Mr. Stark looking as impeccable as ever and a small girl with the same brown hair and eyes and a wide grin on her face, holding Mr. Stark's hand.

"Geniuses these days get younger and younger," Harley suddenly piped in, walking up to them and kneeling in front of the girl with a wide smile on his face. "Who might you be, little miss?"

The girl took a step back to hide behind one of Mr. Stark's legs and grabbed her bright blue dress with the other. "Morgan," she offered quietly.

"Hi, Morgan." Peter would swear on his life he had never seen Harley smile this genuinely and nice before. "I'm Harley."

"Finding a babysitter should really be easier," Mr. Stark said and pulled Peter's attention back to him. "Hope you don't mind her wandering around a little."

"Oh, of course not." Peter shook his head and tried a smile again.

"Want to see something cool?" Harley held his hand out to the girl.

Morgan's eyebrows shot up. "Like what?"

"Like something really, really cool that can shoot potatoes."

"I _hate_ potatoes!" She stepped forward, took Harley's hand and skipped at his side as Harley led her to his table, laughing.

"He's good with kids." Mr. Stark looked quite happy with a small smile on his face, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And you? Working hard, I hope?"

"Sure," Peter mumbled and shrugged. He dropped his backpack at his own table and glanced at Harley. Morgan sat on his lap, happily pointing at whatever Harley had disassembled and didn't look like they just met not even five minutes ago.

"What's that?" Morgan asked. When Peter looked over again, she wasn't looking at the table but grabbed Harley's bracelets with both hands.

"Those are bracelets?" Harley frowned at her.

"Why so many?"

Peter shook his head and looked at his own drone. He knew he should adjust the sensors, which had blown up right in his face the last time he had tried that. But if he tried to concentrate on the metal in front of him, his mind went kind of blank and then wandered back to the metal they had found on the roof. And the Rhino's helmet. And he tried not to think about that, he really did, but Peter couldn't help but wonder if analyzing any of these would yield some results. He was pretty close to just letting his head fall onto the table and give up for the day, when a quiet alarm sounded.

Not even a second later, he shot up straight and looked around. Mr. Stark typed something on … his watch. Then said, "I'll be right there" into it and looked back at him. "I'll have Pepper come and get her," he waved at Morgan, who climbed down from Harley's lap. "I have … important Avengers business to take care of. I trust you both with her."

"Daddy?" Morgan clung to one of Harley's legs and slid down to the floor properly.

"Don't worry, Morguna, I'll be right back." And with that, he was out of the door.

Peter blinked. Of course he knew that Mr. Stark was an Avenger. Everyone knew about Iron Man. But it had never come up during lab day. Maybe they had been lucky? Should they worry now? Peter pulled out his phone, but the news coverage didn't yield anything yet.

"What's going on?" Harley wanted to know.

"Dunno." Peter showed him his news feed to prove that there wasn't anything to worry about, yet. "Can't be too big if there isn't a reporter almost getting killed?"

"Can't be too small if it's an Avengers-level threat," Harley argued.

"Yeah, but we can't take a look." Peter pointedly looked at Morgan, who was watching them with a big frown on her small face. "It's gonna be fine. Avengers can do anything."

"My daddy's an Avenger," she beamed at them proudly. "He can do more than anything."

Harley laughed. "He sure can, kiddo." Then he pulled up his backpack and took out the violet metal plate they had found yesterday. Peter couldn't believe that it had only been yesterday, or that Harley had the audacity to bring the thing with him. "I was planning on staying longer, but this is even better," he said and pushed away his disassembled … project. "Wanna have a look?"

Peter sighed. What was he even supposed to say to that? No? So he rolled his chair to Harley's workstation and had a look. At first glance, the metal looked like anything else. Nothing a screwdriver and a few minutes of work couldn't fix.

"I want to help, too," Morgan said and when Peter looked down, she stood behind their chairs.

Damn, how were they supposed to dismantle that metal plate with a kid nearby? He exchanged a look with Harley and then briefly went back to his own workstation. "You know, I'm building a very important drone," he explained and gestured to Morgan, "one that will hopefully save many, many lives. But it needs a test run first."

"What drone?" Morgan's eyebrows shot up.

Peter gently took it, adjusted the sensors to react to color and set it on the floor. "Would you mind walking it around a little?"

Morgan knelt in front of the spider-like metal drone and patted it on the back. "It's cute."

"It's also very important, and I wouldn't trust anyone else with it."

"I'll do my best." Morgan grinned at him and then at the drone. She started talking to it while walking it through the lab, which should keep her at least a little busy and mostly out of trouble. At least Peter had built the drone sturdy enough, so he guessed that it would be fine as he went back to sit next to Harley.

"What part of the suit was that?" Harley mumbled as he pried the metal plate open to reveal electronic construction beneath.

"It's small, so I'd guess the head?" Peter didn't know if he was right. He didn't even know what that suit was supposed to do. "Wait, I think there's something."

"Like what?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't need tweezers," Peter mumbled and pulled the metal plate toward himself. Harley handed him tweezers only he knew where he'd gotten them so fast, and a minute or two later, Peter removed a small chip and held it up. "Ha!"

"Oh, that's interesting." Harley leaned in closer to have a proper look. "Guess we can extract the data with a little time, if there is any."

So they got on one of the computers, hooked up the chip and decrypted the file, which really shouldn't have been that easy. But before they could watch, the sliding doors opened and the infamous Pepper Potts stepped into the lab. Her heels clicked on the floor and Morgan ran toward her instantly. "Mummy!"

"Hi, sweetie." Mrs. Potts leaned down to hug her daughter, apparently not caring if her perfect costume would crinkle or otherwise be ruined. "Were you a good girl?"

"Of course!" Morgan beamed at her mum. "Peter let me play with his drone and it's so cute, can we keep it?"

"That looks like an over-sized spider," Mrs. Potts commented as she saw the drone slowly following Morgan.

"It's actually to disable bombs from afar," Peter explained before he bit his lip. Maybe he shouldn't have said something unprompted.

Mrs. Potts looked at him and smiled. "Is it? That's very practical. Good work."

"Um, thanks." Peter smiled back a little, then turned to Harley. "Do a back-up and we'll get back to … uh, that. Later."

Harley didn't look too pleased at their interruption, either. "Yeah sure."

Morgan and Mrs. Potts left the lab quickly after that, but their time was already over and there wasn't anyone to ask for overtime, so they started packing up, too. The drone's battery was almost drained after such a short time walking with Morgan, so Peter hooked it up to its charger and put a sticky note on it to remind himself to work on the battery's runtime.

"So, about that 'later'," Harley said and pulled his backpack with the metal plate and chip inside closed. "Want to come to my room? I mean, there's nobody to interrupt."

Peter turned his kind-of-stolen bracelet on his wrist. "I'm not sure that's a good idea." Really, he didn't want to be alone with Harley. Not in the kind of emotional situation he was in right now, and not with everything going on all at once where Peter hadn't had the time to process any of that.

"Why?" Harley demanded with a raised eyebrow. "You can't be alone with me anymore?"

"I don't know," Peter snapped and swung his backpack over one shoulder. "I don't know _anything_ anymore, starting with you!"

Harley threw both arms in the air and groaned. "Oh, that's just great! I've been telling you for over a year that I like you, and you suddenly start acting like I'd do some weird shit or what?"

"What? No!" Peter bit his lip. "Wait, you what? Like … _like_ -like?"

"Yeah, _darlin'_." Harley rolled his eyes. "Newsflash: I don't just call people that if I hate them."

Before Peter had any time to react, Harley stormed out of the lab and left him there. Peter blinked. Harley … liked him? Honestly? He ran a hand over his face and sighed. There was another bullet point to his list of 'how fucked up his life had become' because apparently, he had managed to alienate the last person in his life. Great.

*

"Well, I'm no expert, but maybe you should have gone after him?" Ned didn't even look up from his phone, which was all the same to Peter. He was busy running in circles, literally, and tried not to trip over their stuff lying around.

"I don't know," he sighed and stepped over one of Ned's textbooks. "I mean, he said it in that way that I think means he likes me, but …"

"Didn't you say he said that he liked you, word for word?"

Peter stopped and sighed again. "He did, didn't he?"

"Yup." Finally, Ned put the phone down. But instead of continuing to listen to Peter's rant, he put on his shoes. "I'm off, don't expect me back anytime soon."

"Got a date?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, Betty needs cheering up after her test. Oh, by the way," Ned was already halfway out of the door before he turned back to Peter with a suddenly very serious face. "Do you lay eggs?"

"… no."

The door closed behind Ned and Peter fell onto his bed face-first. Any energy he may have had left vanished and he curled up into a ball. At least Ned took him being Spider-Man with stride and apart from the weird questions, it wasn't a big deal. That was the only good thing that had happened these past few days. They felt like months with everything happening all at once.

First, he got his ass kicked by someone he hadn't had any choice but dub the Green Goblin, then he found out Harley was his soulmate and his supposed soulmate had lied to him for years. And now hated his guts, especially after Harry found out he was Spider-Man. Peter _really_ didn't want to know what life had in store for him. Exhaustion took over his body, so he couldn't even muster up the strength to get up and do his homework. Instead he laid on the bed, curled up and hugging his pillow, and stared at the floor.

Until there was a knock on the door and Harley peeked in. "Hey, Ned just texted me," he said and his eyes finally landed on Peter. "Said you – um, what's going on?"

At least Peter hadn't been crying again. He was too exhausted for that. "Ned said what?" He asked while not moving at all.

"That you … wanted to talk?" Harley offered as he stepped inside the room but left the door open. So much for not wanting to be alone with him.

"Not really," Peter mumbled into the pillow. By all rights, he should Harley throw out of the room. Like, right now. But the truth was, that he also didn't want him to leave, and not only because he felt bad for snapping earlier.

"Okay." Harley hovered in the door.

"You can stay," Peter allowed and even managed to sit up. "I'm, uh, sorry for snapping."

"No, it's fine." Harley closed the door but still didn't move from his place by it. "I mean, it's not, but – I get it. There's a lot going on right now. Do you … wanna talk about it?"

"No." Which wasn't the right answer, Peter knew that. It wasn't the truth either, not completely. "Not right now. Tomorrow?" He offered.

"Sure. I'll, uh …" Harley waved with his hand in a motion that led Peter to believe he wanted to go again. And honestly, who could blame him?

"Stay?" Peter asked. It felt kind of weird and selfish, but if he was completely honest with himself, he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts right now.

His question made Harley come closer to the bed and sit on the edge. He pulled up a leg and looked at Peter like he wanted to say something. Peter didn't offer anything in form of distraction. There was a bit of curiosity in him that demanded he sit and wait for whatever came. "I'm sorry I'm your soulmate," Harley finally managed quietly.

Peter's stomach dropped. That wasn't what he had expected at all, if anything. And Harley did look sorry, head bowed and hands fumbling with his many bracelets, just the thing he had accused Peter of. Maybe he had never seen Harley truly nervous before. Peter swallowed and moved closer on the bed to reach out and take one of Harley's hands. It felt good and warm and like the energy in his body came back to life, just the thing he had missed right now.

Harley wanted to pull away, though, so Peter let him. "I thought you didn't like touching me."

"No, I …" Peter sighed and put both hands in his lap. "I'm confused. And angry. And honestly, I don't even know what else is going on, just that it's too much. But I didn't want to hurt you. So … don't be sorry?"

Even though it still looked kind of sad, Harley managed a small smile. "I really _do_ like you, you know?"

"I know." Peter watched the smile disappear as Harley bowed his head. So he leaned in closer until their foreheads touched and he could feel that warmth again. "But I'm stupid and can't tell you that I like you, too."

Peter didn't know how long they sat like that and didn't talk. It was nice, though, not having to voice all of his thoughts and just … be himself. Not Spider-Man, not a student on scholarship, not anyone's best friend. Just Peter. Just Harley's soulmate. Eventually, Harley took his hands and the warmth got more intense and lulled them into some sense of security and tiredness. When Peter laid down to sleep, still fully clothed and on top of the blanket, he pulled Harley with him. And just as he had asked earlier, Harley stayed.


End file.
